


To Take A Padawan

by ErrantNight



Series: What You Take With You [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 13:51:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14356815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErrantNight/pseuds/ErrantNight
Summary: Short Prequel to "I Won't Fail You (I'm Not Afraid)"





	To Take A Padawan

Anchorhead was crowded so early in the morning, sleepy residents going about their business before Tatoo 2 rose above the horizon and redoubled the already rising temperatures. People took advantage of this time to shop, for children to play outside before work or school. The small single classroom every age attended wasn’t crowded, many chose to teach their younglings at home or used the holonet to sign them up for classes. That way they could learn between chores, or at night before bed when things were cooler and more relaxed.

Obi-Wan liked mornings on Tatooine, liked to meditate quietly on the roof of the little dome roof that rose over the sands and enjoy the few moments of relative cool that wasn’t frigid cold and wasn’t totally oppressive heat. However he couldn’t quite live entirely self sufficiently, there were times he came to the settlement out of necessity, or to be totally honest with himself out of loneliness. 

He settled into a small alcove out of the way, counting the dataries in his pouch mentally. He got by on scavenging things too small for the Jawas to notice, the Force and practice guiding him where to explore. His vaporator gathered enough water to drink, and just enough to grow the vegetables and fungi he mostly subsisted on. 

A wry smile touched his mouth, hidden within a beard that needed trimming. He’d ended up a bit of a farmer after all, hadn’t he? Not quite the agricorp, no, but he’d never imagined himself tending plants with care and a little fascination. It had been difficult to learn, he’d almost starved in fact - humans couldn’t live on just meat, even if they ate all the organs as he’d done. 

He could afford to buy tea, and that made him delightedly happy, even if what he got was entirely unsophisticated compared to what he preferred. It was caffeine, and if he adulterated it properly with the right sweetener and powdered milk substitute it was pleasant enough. Bantha milk, while acceptable in some applications, was dreadful in tea, making him grimace at the thought.

His eye was caught suddenly by sunlight falling on bright golden hair, a wave of nostalgia and grief striking the smile from his face and clenching his chest and throat tightly. He shook the powerful emotions away, reaching for the Force and trying to release them. Anakin Skywalker was dead, or as good as, and no matter how much his son looked like him… well he couldn’t think about that too closely. 

Luke Skywalker walked beside his aunt, nine years old and looking like an ancient ghost walking on the sands he’d been born to. He looked uncannily like his father, so much so that Obi-Wan turned abruptly away and stalked back toward the edge of town. He controlled his panicked breathing, getting a few odd looks that he ignored. Everyone thought he was a little crazy anyway, he didn’t have to try and look ‘normal’. 

He stopped in his tracks and turned back around, wincing against the light and looking again. Pale golden hair that would one day darken to brown if he ever got out of the twin suns bleaching power, bright blue eyes that were crinkled in a smile as he looked up at Beru and said something that made her laugh, sun browned skin against dusty white tunic and leg wraps. 

For a moment he was transported decades back, kneeling on the deck of a Nubian starship and feeling a small callused hand firmly shake his as another little boy breathlessly introduced himself. 

What was he afraid of? Because it was fear, and he knew where that led. Where it had led Anakin, where it had led the Jedi. 

He was afraid of failing, more than anything else. He could have argued with Owen years ago, he wasn’t the Negotiator for anything. Sith Hells he could have taken the baby anywhere, but he deserved something better than a broken man who didn’t know the first thing about children younger than 10. And Beru loved him, had lost two pregnancies after he’d brought them Luke and one before. The Force had steered him right there, at least he could say that.

He turned away again, but didn’t flee toward the edge of town. He had shopping to finish, after all. And maybe he could barter for a chance to use the long range com in the tiny community center… He needed advice.


End file.
